


Small Town Secrets

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, References to Drugs, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:56:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: It's the fifth call, and this one is the worst Jesse has ever gotten. 
Written for the prompt: "Jesse knows Cass is an addict, knows what it's like to have to escape reality for at least a short while. He does his best to mitigate the damage the man does to himself, but it never quite feels like enough. (And of course Cassidy just can't help but take advantage of Jesse's need to save what he thinks is a broken soul and bask in the attention...)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! I have risen from the depths of schoolwork with a fic for you. I knew things were going to slow down considerably once September hit, but hopefully I won't have a Preacher fic hiatus that's quite as long again... Regardless, hope you all enjoy this one <3

All you ever really needed to know about Annville was that it was small. The kind of goddamn, horrible smallness where everyone knew everyone—and not in the friendly way either. It was, ‘Why would I hire you, Brad? Couldn’t keep track of your books in sixth grade, why the fuck would I trust you with my kids?’ Or, ‘Bless your heart, Jane. I remember when you were just a little tyke, wetting your corduroy pants...’ There were no true secrets in Annville. Everything got out eventually, and when it did, it spread like _wildfire_.

 

Jesse always said that adding technology to the mix was just asking for trouble. But no, Emily needed to bring their little, neurotic town into the 21st century. Cell phones for everyone. More than that, a group-text for the church.

 

Contact your preacher day or night. He’s here for _all_ your spiritual needs!

 

Jesse ground his teeth as light filled his bedroom again, the _bzzz, bzzz, bzzz_ of some neighbor needing his guidance. Maybe it was Mrs. Harper, here to inform him that her cat’s ghost really had come back to visit—for the fifth time. Or Reginald in another argument with his wife, thinking that Jesse played marriage counselor as well as preacher. It could be Sam asking if he wanted some of her meatloaf leftovers. Ryan, drunk, needed someone to curse at. Even Luke, Sasha’s eight-year-old, who liked tricking everyone into thinking he’d experienced more horrible things in this world than he actually had. Jesse had eventually seen through him the hard way, with too many late night ‘emergency’ visits.

 

The text could be from any number of nosy, awful people. Jesse was more tempted than not to just ignore it.

 

Except... except there was one goddamn person...

 

With a curse of his own Jesse rolled and snatched the cell from his nightstand. It took a bleary moment to see what was written, but when he did he was up like a flash.

 

A small town, first and foremost. Which meant that it was actually a high probability that the one person he needed to talk to might be calling.

 

Jesse was _damn_ glad he answered.

 

“Maria,” he breathed. That one word encompassed all Jesse’s emotions, bound up and forced through the cell line. In seconds he’d gone from groggy to full-on alert. His legs were tangled in the damp sheets. His headache grew with each word she gave him. The last thing Jesse wanted was to move from this spot, but the flutter of anxiety in his chest spurned him on. He blew out a low, dry breath, even as he could manage.

 

“Okay, Maria? Is he—? Oh. Oh thank _Christ_ , you’re sure? Yes. Yes, of course. Just keep your distance, I’ll... I’ll be there as soon as I can I— _shit_.”

 

A click, too loud in the quiet night, signaling the end of the conversation. It was such a _small_ town. If this moment didn’t ruin them... the rumors just might.

 

Jesse placed his cell slowly, carefully on the nightstand, like he was afraid that it (and the man it was attached to) might break.

 

Then he set off running.

 

***

 

Maria had lived in Annville all her life. She knew every nook and cranny. It was small like that. She was also, ultimately, a creature of habit. Some around here (mostly Ian bagging her groceries and Sophie’s silly book club) said that it was because she’d broken after Rob had left her. Just shattered. Of course, it was completely unheard of, a native Annville resident leaving to ‘seek their fortune,’ after thirty years of marriage no less. Maria didn’t mind, as Annville seemed to insist that she must. She and Rob had married at seventeen, two lifetimes ago for both of them, and that decision had no bearing on the people they’d become. They had no children he was responsible for (another gasp worthy revelation). And besides, Maria knew for a fact that he’d lost all the savings he’d taken in a sketchy casino and was currently living destitute somewhere in Arizona. So yeah. Fuck Rob.

 

Amazingly, everyone had seen Maria continue her life exactly as she had when Rob had been around and assumed that it was out of some kind of pathetic, desperate loneliness. Didn’t occur to a single fool that maybe she just liked her own routine.

 

That included her walks.

 

“Insomnia’s read bad for you, darlin’. Mmm hmm. I should know. Just look at those stars! Too many for our eyes, eh?” Cassidy giggled, kicking his legs, and Maria edged a little closer. She raised her hands… though heaven only knew what she thought she could do.

 

Bless Jesse Custer. That boy had his own issues, sure, but he wasn’t anything like her Rob (and wasn’t that one of God’s own miracles). Jesse would be there for you if you needed him, so Maria tried her darndest to return the favor. Life and a bad back had kept her up most nights nowadays, kept her moving, and more often than not she ran into Cassidy—stupid boy high as a blasted kite.

 

This was the fourth time they’d met... but sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Maria hadn’t ever seen him like _this_.

 

She’d say he was on ecstasy if she didn’t doubt even Cassidy’s ability to get ahold of that in Annville. Yet here he was, happy as a disoriented clam, thoughts jumping here, there, and everywhere, completely erratic. It was by some sort of grace that he’d managed to sit still—relatively—since Maria had found him.

 

“You just keep still, honey,” she reiterated, keeping her eyes glued on the curve of Cassidy’s back. “Preacher will be here any minute.”

 

“Padre,” Cassidy chimed in. Maria didn’t know if he was correcting her or just savoring the name in his mouth. “He’s my favorite. My _very_ good friend an’ don’t you have one a’ those? You with your pretty face an’... an’...” he peered blearily, rocking and causing Maria’s heart to jackrabbit in her chest. “Your _coat_. Oh, that looks mighty soft, that does.”

 

Maria swallowed hard. Her old bones were useless here, but she extended a frail arm regardless. “Yeah? Why don’t you come over and see?”

 

Cassidy wasn’t given the chance to answer. At that moment a screech of tires sounded in the night, causing him to clap both hands over his ears—and for Maria’s fear to kick up another notch. The sound heralded Jesse, throwing himself out of the church van. He landed on one knee, heaved up, and stumbled like a drunk towards his friend. Even in the moonlight Maria could see how sickly pale he was.

 

“Cass,” he said, voice strangled. “ _Come down_.”

 

He simply waved though. Cassidy was gloriously happy atop Annville’s one, god-forsaken bridge.

 

***

 

Annville was such a tiny goddamn place. Quaint by some standards. Fucking backwards by Cass’. Still, it made finding the one available bridge real fucking easy.

 

It was a useless structure overall, a lot like the town it led into. Whatever water might have once been there had dried up long ago, sand dunes rising high to fill the space, though there was still a significant drop from here to the ground. Cass wasn’t even near the top. He’d only commandeered one of little thingamajigs that stabilized it, his butt wedged into the narrow triangle it created. Still, this kind of fall was likely to crack his head open like a rotten egg.

 

How very fitting.

 

“Cass... _come down_.”

 

He closed his eyes, trying to memorize the concern in Jesse’s voice. It was so rare for the man to emote like that, requiring more and more from Cass to drag it out. But oh, he had the resources. Living a hundred years made you manipulative as fuck and Cass had sure as hell tried enough drugs— _all_ the drugs—to accurately mimic their symptoms. If climbing up a bridge was what it took for Jesse to pay attention to him, Cass was well willing to please.

 

It wasn’t like he was really in danger anyhow. Fall might crack his skull, sure, but it would stitch back together quick enough. Not that Jesse knew that. Still didn’t believe him about the whole vampire thing.

 

“ _Cass_.”

 

He felt the vibrations as Jesse climbed... then warm hands slid gently around Cass’ waist. They were trembling. They were _scared_ , and Cass had to close his throat lest he let out a sob and ruin all of it. Jesse seemed to take his sudden stiffness as over-stimulation. He began apologizing, nearly babbling, as he coaxed Cass back into his arms.

 

No need to disappoint. He let his body go limp and practically tumbled into Jesse’s hold, the two of them making an awkward pair back to the ground. Cass briefly nuzzled his neck and caught a whiff of his hair. Such things were excusable when you were supposedly off your rocker on drugs.

 

Which was the worse sin then? Actually getting high, or just pretending for the attention?

 

Cass really wasn’t sure anymore.

 

“Thank you, Maria—” Jesse was saying, all earnest and... and... just so goddamn _sincere_. Cass felt a little bad for scaring her, but he’d known she was the one good soul who’d call his Jesse, rather than tipping him—literally—over the edge. Planting himself in her path tonight had been real easy. Easy enough that it felt like fate.

 

And Jesse had come. It was always a possibility he wouldn’t, too fed up with Cass’ shit to bother. But he was here, one arm steadying Cass’ shoulders, his other hand pressed firmly against Cass’ stomach. Jesse unconsciously rubbed his thumb there. A small caress.

 

Cass looked to him in the moonlight then. This time he didn’t need to fake the dopey smile.

 

“I love you, Padre.”

 

“‘Course you do, Cass,” Jesse muttered, already dismissing it as a temporary, drug-induced love. “You’ll... keep quiet about this?”

 

It took Cass a long moment to realize he was speaking to Maria. Oh.

 

“I’ll do my best, Preacher. You know I will but... small town.” She said it like an incantation. Things would come to light, whether you wanted them to or not.

 

“I know. Th-thanks again.”

 

They stumbled back towards the van, Cass playing his part and Jesse negotiating knees weak from terror. Cass could feel the lecture building within him. It would boil over sometime tomorrow afternoon, when Jesse roared at him something fierce, maybe even throwing a bottle or two. For now though he simply pressed Cass close to him, reveling in the fact that he was there.

 

Cass did exactly the same.

 

“Inside, c’mon lie down...”

 

Only van the church owned was the one that transported bodies. Jesse guided him onto a cot for corpses, briefly smoothing Cass’ hair. He just smiled in response, lying like the dead.

 

The last image Cass caught before a temporary darkness was Jesse’s face, holy, set between two closing doors.

 

What a perfect night.

 

***

 

Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. Jesse closed his eyes and set his head on the steering wheel, breathing.

 

He was damn relieved it hadn’t come to that tonight.

 

 

 


End file.
